A Brain's Best Friend
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: The power of one woman doesn't amount to much. But, however little strength I'm capable of…I'll do everything humanly possible to protect the people I love, and in turn they'll protect the ones they love. It seems the least we tiny humans can do for each other. - - - Sequel to Rough Water - - - ON HIATUD
1. Preface

_**Preface**_

* * *

_Athazagoraphobia: (n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced._

* * *

It's running fast.

It's running fast.

It's running fast.

Turns on a heel, hits the floor and everything is bright.

Her fingers curl against a hard, cold, surface and she doesn't even cry when the skin breaks. She doesn't cry like she wants to, like she used to. She's tougher, or so she's been told, and it is finally proven to her now.

But she doesn't know what to do.

What do you do, when you're blind?

What do you do, when everyone you love is in danger?

What do you do, when you're trying to save everyone and they don't even want your help?

They push you away, over and over again, yet they let you stick close enough to watch the embers and then finally, they let you burn.

Who do you call on when you're the only one willing to fight?


	2. Mundane

The morning air has been crisp for about a week.

She stares at the open window, rocking in the chair ever so slightly, eyes directed out the window. Rain. It was going to rain soon, meaning she would have to get everything inside. She hated that. She had always had a porch to protect the chairs and the flowers that were too delicate to be left in the rain. Now a days, she had to rush outside and gather the chairs, the flowers, the flags with pretty birds on them and her shoes, pushing them into the room reserved for times like this.

Her ears perk up as she hears a familiar cry in the other room and she flinches as her bones crack in her legs. Her legs aren't that of a woman that has just turned twenty, they are that of someone that has reached fifty, perhaps forty. But they still get the job done, but they ache when the rain comes, they ache when she walks for too long and don't even get her started on running.

She lingers in the doorway, right hand propping her against the doorframe as she smiles as the young nursemaids back. "Oh please, little one," the woman's faint French accent sounds so desperate. "The Miss won't like i-"

"Its fine, Isabelle," Beth smiles a disarming smile and the maid turns to her. "I've got her."

Isabelle sighs, greasy hair falling into her eyes and she hands the child over to Beth, who manages to prop it awkwardly against her right hip. "Sh-She just wouldn't stop. I fed her, burped her…I even changed her diaper and she still cries."

Beth laughs lightly. "Don't worry," she reaches out with her left hand, placing it against the young nursemaids arm. "It's fine. Why don't you go help out Kala and the others with the North tower? I hear they're undermanned."

Isabelle nodded fiercely and then turned to the door, muttering her way out of the room. Beth chuckled, hearing the front door snap shut. She walked over to the window, peering out of it to see Isabelle's retreating figure slip through the alleys to the main courtyard. Her lips turned into a thin line and she looked down to the baby on her hip. Her bright blue eyes reflected Beth, a mop of black hair on her head. She lifted her hands up and clamped her mouth around her knuckles, a slip of drool coming down to her wrist.

"Oh no you don't you lil stinker," Beth pulled the child's hand down. "I guess that means you're hungry,"

The baby sputtered and threw her hands up, taking a firm hold of Beth's blonde waves. The young woman simply chuckled and maneuvered through the apartment to the kitchen, setting up the child in her high chair. The child slammed her hands down on the stained feeding tray in front of her, but Beth continued to mull about, finding a small tin of baby food. She pulled a plastic spoon from an old can in the middle of her small dining room table. She pulled a chair in front of the high chair and then popped open the baby food, getting out a spoonful.

"Open your mouth," Beth muttered slowly, opening her own mouth wide.

The baby mimicked her actions, focused on Beth's face and not the spoon that was now shoved into her mouth. She didn't spit it out like usual, she simply swallowed and opened her mouth for the new spoonful.

"Oh, you are such a good girl for mommy," Beth cheered, sliding another spoonful into the child's mouth.

"Having fun, I see."Beth's head snapped up, hair fluttering around her face, and she saw Gareth leaning against the doorway to her kitchen.

Beth swallowed thickly as he slid into the room, perching on the edge of her kitchen table. Her hand was shaking as she slid the spoon into her daughter's mouth again. The child didn't feel the tension radiating from her mother, she was just concerned about the food that was tasting better with every bite.

"Hello, Gareth," Beth muttered sternly. "I thought you would be at the North tower. I sent Isabelle as back up."

Gareth hummed, reaching out and taking a strand of Beth's hair between his fingers. "Well, there's nothing to report today so I was wondering if you had any plans for patrol tonight."

"You could have sent a courier for your concern," Beth hummed.

"Our couriers are all gone, sent out to the other groups we've made contact with."

"Looking to make peace?"

"Something like that," he pushed himself back onto his feet. "I also wanted to see you in person."

"How sweet."

He stared at the side of her face. "Do you understand where that attitude will get you?"

Beth glared at him. "My child is present, I won't talk about things like that in front of her."

"She doesn't un-"

"Yes she does," Beth didn't speak firmly, her voice shook with a plead he heard. She reached out and covered her daughter's ears, looking to him with defeated eyes. "Please…just, can we talk about this later? I am taking my patrol tonight and Elizabeth's tomorrow, she is on tower guard for the next week. You have your answer, I will see you in the office later, ok?"

He stared at her blankly for a moment. And then he smiles and reaches out, patting her on the head like a dog. He sees her as such, mine as well act the part and submit like a good hound. If she didn't, it would mean so many problems for her. So many problems Beth wasn't ready to deal with so early in the day. She watches his back as he leaves the room, swallowingdryly before she turns to her daughter and grabs the food she had set down a moment ago, finishing feeding her child before it was time for the slowest part of their day.

Once her daughter was all fresh, shiny and new, Beth strapped her in a carrier onto her back. She adjusted the straps against her chest, her face twisted in discomfort as the edge of the straps dug into the side of her breasts sharply. Once she was satisfied, Beth stepped to her front door, hand on the knob, and she took a deep breath. She lived in the workers section of Terminus, far away from where Gareth lived, in the substation. She had tried to get a spot underground, in the old subway that ran beneath this place, but Gareth wouldn't allow it, said it was too dirty for her. Beth knew the truth, obviously. He had been trying to get to her ever since she arrived here, but she wasn't giving in so easily. She would never give up anything to him. Ever. Even if he did everything he said he would, she would never be his for the taking.

Beth locked her door behind her and shuffled down the steps of her apartment, smiling and waving at an old woman watering her sunflowers. The same flower bloomed all over the train yard, Beth found it so strange. She didn't dwell on that for long though, she was already headed for the small market set up in the middle of the community. She had her thumbs tucked into the straps, humming a tune under her tongue until she turned a corner, coming face to face with someone she didn't want to see.

Ulfric.

He was two inches shy of 7'1" and he wore this strange armor. It looked like something from a video game, but he had said – in warning when Beth had questioned him about the armor – that it was a part of his culture. It had been his great grandfathers and then his grandfathers and then his fathers. Now it was his to wear. He had said the armor went back centuries in his family line but Beth didn't stick around for the whole lecture.

He spoke slowly, his baritone so deep it sent chills through her frail body. He stared down at her now with dispassionate green eyes, a club littered with nails slung over his right shoulder. Beth didn't know what he felt for her anymore. One moment he could be nice – not speaking, but nice – and then he would be a raving lunatic with a machine gun.

Not a good combination.

"What 're ya doin out of yer home, Beth?"

Beth swallowed, hearing her daughter giggle on her back. "Jus' takin Amy to the market, need some grapes and fresh linen."

He nodded and lumbered past her; Beth was surprised the ground beneath her feet didn't shake. "See you on guard tonight."

Beth let out a sharp exhale and scurried down the rest of the path, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw a few familiar – still unwelcome – faces in the market. All they really had was fruit, so a lot of people were vegetarians. As Beth passed, she wondered if anyone knew where the meat came from. She saw a little boy chewing on a piece of what looked like beef jerky and felt something tangy hit the back of her teeth.

Disgusting.

"Hello Beth," a nameless elderly woman greeted her at a small blanket lined with fruit and vegetables. "What will you have today?"

Beth smiled warily. "Grapes, please. Do you have any fresh linen, or do I have to go to Joshua for that today?"

They mulled for a bit, the old woman measuring fabric and slicing it where Beth told her to. Beth watched the old woman's nimble fingers package her things, sliding them into paper bags Beth carried with ease. The old woman expressed slight concern for the young mother, but Beth waved away the concern and shuffled away as fast as possible. She had been able to stay pretty anonymous for the past couple of months. The only time she spoke to others was when she was teaching and when she was here at the market. Sometimes she spoke to other guards, but only when it was necessary. Like if there was a breach or anything in the wall. Of course, necessary.

In a year, she had only spoken to those necessary.

She sat on an old bench, far away from anyone else that lived in this hovel, and she stared at the sky while she held her daughter in her arms. She was asleep, gurgling around her lips and making Beth smile. Beth reached up, pushing away the black hair and pressing the knuckles of her middle and pointer finger against Amy's right cheek. The child didn't move, just inhaled deeply and settled deeper into her mother's arms. Even what she came from, Beth couldn't regret this child. The scar across her abdomen was proof that she held no grudges against the child, just the father.

Her baby, her precious, precious baby, was a product of rape.

How would she ever explain that to her daughter if she lived to be old enough to comprehend what she was being told?

Beth felt a tear slip down her cheek and inhaled through her nose, straightening her back and she wiped away the tear, standing. No, no she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry over something like this. There was just no sense in it. No sense in wasting tears over a bad memory long gone.

* * *

"I don't try an' shake away this old disease," she hummed, fingers fiddling with the serpent grip of her pistol.

She looked up at the top of the chain link, reaching up with her right hand. She hooked her fingers in the chain link and gave a few good shakes, testing the firmness of the gate and when it stood still she nodded and turned down the next path. Brick walls surrounded her on either side, making her feel sort of comforted but all she could see was a herd of Walkers assaulting her from either end. She would be trapped.

It had been months since she saw a Walker and, if she didn't know any better, Beth would say they were all gone. But then she remembered that they were all infected, that they were still in danger of becoming one of those monsters.

Beth rolled her head around on her shoulders and then breathed in the fresh sunlight. She wondered what her daughter was doing right now, in the care of Beth's appointed nanny, Isabelle. Gareth had forced the young woman to help Beth care for the child and, in any other situation, Beth would be grateful for the help. But Beth didn't trust any help she was given by any of these people. Behind the kind faces laid demons. Demons Beth wasn't strong enough to fight on her own.

Beth paused outside of an old gate, eyeing the latch with greedy eyes before she shook her head. No, that would have to wait until feeding. She turned from the door and stared down the thin path between buildings that led to this door. She leaned back against it, right hand tapping a tune on her thigh. She had grown to be patient, she had grown to learn that rushing things would only make this harder on her and her baby. She would play along for her baby. She knew there would come a time that she would be able to escape, would grow the nerve to escape, but that future didn't seem very close.

She didn't want to wait.

She didn't want to pace her cell, mindless and willing at the hands of a psychopath.

No, Beth wanted to be free.

Beth wanted to have her and her baby away from this hell.

Beth wanted to be in Merle's arms again.


	3. Chapter 3

_**So guys, I was reading over Rough Water and...well, to be honest, I got mad at myself. I know I shouldn't be doing this but to make the sequel and the first story fit I have to redo the first.**_

**A Brain's Best Friend will still be updated but sparingly while I work out these kinks. **

_**Sorry to do this but it has to be done. And sorry for italics then regular print. The phone keeps screwing with me while I write this in the copy-n-paste section of my document manager of the website.**_


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